Paroles et traduction Vicente Fernández - Caballo Golondrino

Caballo Golondrino

Tenia fama de pelao
Siempre anda bien armado
Ese Maclovio Natera

Era revolucionario
Quería mucho a su caballo
Y le gustaba dar guerra

Su caballo era muy fino
Se llamaba Golondrino
Dosalbo y muy pajarero

Conocía bien el peligro
Se paraba en dos patitas
Si venteaba al enemigo

Al caballo como al hombre
El amor lo trae herido
Brinco el pesebre esa noche
Dejando a su amo dormido

Cuando volvió el nuevo día
Hallo a Maclovio tirado
Los rivales que tenía
Ya lo habían medio matado

...Y como decía Maclovio
¡Arriba La Revolución Hijos
De Pancho Villa!

Cuando Maclovio moría
Debajo de su caballo
Se quejaba y se reía

Su caballo relinchaba
Con las patas lo meneaba
Quería volverlo a la vida
Cuando el caballo venteo
Que estaba muerto de veras
Sin detenerse corrió
Internándose en la sierra
Los del pueblo lo buscaron
Sin encontrarlo ya nunca
El caballo Golondrino
Siguió a Maclovio a su tumba

Swallow Horse

He had a reputation as a tough guy, my love,
Always well-armed, just for you,
That Maclovio Natera, a man to admire.

He was a revolutionary, fighting for what's right,
He loved his horse dearly, a bond so tight,
And he loved to give war a good fight, for our future.

His horse was very fine, a noble steed,
His name was Golondrino, a name indeed,
Two-toned and very spirited, a horse to heed.

He knew danger well, sensed it in the air,
He'd stand on two legs, showing he would dare,
If he sensed the enemy, beware, my fair.

The horse, like the man, love had him in its sway,
Love's wounds run deep, they say,
He jumped the manger that night, couldn't stay,
Leaving his master sleeping, come what may.

When the new day arrived, the sun so bright,
He found Maclovio lying, what a sight,
The rivals he had, filled with spite,
Had already half-killed him in the night.

...And as Maclovio used to say, with pride,
Long live the Revolution, side by side,
Sons of Pancho Villa, let your voices ride!

As Maclovio lay dying, drawing near,
Underneath his horse, shedding a tear,
He moaned and laughed, showing no fear.

His horse neighed loudly, a mournful sound,
Nudged him with his hooves, all around,
Wanting to bring him back to life, safe and sound.
When the horse realized, his master's fate,
That he was truly dead, it was too late,
Without stopping, he ran, full of hate,
Deep into the mountains, to seal his mate's.
The people searched for him, high and low,
But never found him, where did he go?
The horse Golondrino, in the afterglow,
Followed Maclovio to his tomb, soft and slow.